


Catch and Release

by penguingal, Schnaucl (Onetrackmind)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: M/M, comment porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-17
Updated: 2009-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:43:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onetrackmind/pseuds/Schnaucl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series. Don's arrogant and Ian is a bastard and this is what happens when they run into each other at Quantico.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch and Release

"Naw, we were the best. We could track anyone in an urban environment. The stupidity of some of these guys was just beyond description." Don grinned and took another swallow of beer. He was young, and okay, maybe a little cocky, but he'd earned the right. He and Billy had a great capture rate. One of the best.   
  
"Is that right?" someone drawled. Ian--something, Don thought. Started with an E. Some guy that was supposed to be a "legend."  
  
"That's right," Don said, lifting his eyes. "We caught the guys that no one else could catch."  
  
Ian leaned forward, making sure he had the attention of everyone sitting at the table. These new instructors always came to Quantico out of the field, full of adrenaline withdrawal and more bravado than sense. Hell, it was almost his duty to put them back in their places. "Care to prove it?"  
  
Don looked him over. "What did you have in mind?"  
  
Leaning back, Ian adopted a relaxed pose, privately enjoying the rapt attention everyone was now paying him. He could almost smell the sudden uncertainty rolling off of Eppes now. He shrugged. "A little advanced hide-and-go-seek. You give me a day's head start and then start tracking me. I'll give you 24 hours to find me before I turn the tables and start tracking you. Whoever finds the other first wins. To make it fair, I'll even stay within the state of Virginia. What do you say?"  
  
"In an urban setting. None of this middle of the woods crap," Don said.  
  
"Done," Ian said, taking a swig of his beer, a cocky smile on his face. It just proved Don's inexperience; tracking in an urban setting was actually harder because there was less physical trace left behind or the physical trace got diluted by too much other trace. "The new session doesn't actually start until Monday, so let's say the game starts tomorrow, midnight Thursday. You give me till midnight Friday and then come find me. Midnight Saturday, I start hunting you."  
  
"The winner get anything other than bragging rights?"  
  
Ian smirked again, managing to keep his eyes from doing a sweep down Don's body. He knew what he wanted as his prize, but even he wasn't reckless enough to name it here. He'd call that a bonus once he won. "I laid out the rules, you name the wager. What are you willing to gamble, Eppes?"  
  
"How about a bottle of very, very nice scotch?" he said after a moment of thought.  
  
"Johnny Walker Blue?" Ian asked.  
  
Don shrugged. "Sure," he said, taking a calm sip of his beer and looking Ian square in the eyes.   
  
"I'll take that bet," Ian replied. He leaned back again, looking forward to toying with this upstart a little.  
  
"Gonna get your ass kicked, Eppes," someone muttered.  
  
"Yeah, well... we'll see about that." Don excused himself to the bar and got another drink. One of the other agents from the table joined him.  
  
"Man, you should have asked about Edgerton before you took that bet. He's one of the best snipers in the bureau; guy can track down anything, anywhere. He's spooky and he will play you like a fiddle."  
  
Don accepted his drink from the bartender. "You don't know me. I have a pretty good game myself."  
  
The other agent accepted his drink and clinked it with Don's. "Don't say I didn't warn you."  
  
Ian watched the line of Eppes's body from his spot at the table, seeing the tension in his shoulders even though he was hiding it well otherwise.  
  
"For the record? That was last year's guy who bet Ian Edgerton," the guy next to him said.  
  
"What happened?" Don asked.  
  
The guy next to him shrugged. "He lost. Badly. Some people around here still haven't let him forget it either. You be careful. Ian Edgerton is not someone to fool around with."  
  
"Thanks, but I can handle myself." But he was beginning to wish he had Billy at his side.  
  
Ian polished off his drink and stood, saying a general goodbye to the people still gathered at the table. He made a beeline for Eppes. "See you soon, Eppes," he said, holding out a hand for him to shake and pulling him closer when he took it. "Catch me if you can," he whispered in Don's ear.  
  
"Count on it," Don said.  
  
Ian spent the day planning. He packed a light bag and examined his DC-Metro maps. He had absolutely no intention of going very far unless Eppes drove him that way. His plan? Stay close to home and keep tabs on Eppes, planting some choice misdirection along the way. To make sure his ruse would work, he placed several phone calls to friends of his in Virginia, knowing that Eppes's first step would be to finagle his hands on his personnel file and pull some phone records.  
  
Don's first order of business was to buy a drink for last year's failure. Maybe the guy could be helpful, tell him where he'd gone wrong. Ian wasn't a criminal; he couldn't rouse his criminal buddies and pump them for information. But someone with a grudge could be almost as good.  
  
"So, how many times has Edgerton done this?" Don asked the other agent, Jack Holton.  
  
Jack shrugged. "I know directly of five. I've heard tales of others. He's been around the bureau forever. Who knows exactly. The one thing that stays the same across all the stories... he has never lost."  
  
"Always a first time."  
  
"Yeah. That's what I said. Good luck."  
  
Don spent the next day at the FBI talking to as many people about Edgerton as he could, trying to get a read on the kinds of games he might play. The overall picture was not encouraging.  
  
Don checked in to the shooting range and was headed to a stall when he ran into Ian. "Regretting your bet?" Ian purred.  
  
Don drew himself up to his full height. "Not in the slightest. I just hope while you're practicing with that thing," he gestured to the rifle in Ian's hands, "you're practicing losing, too."  
  
Ian gave a low chuckle. "Just be glad you didn't make a bet on your marksmanship."  
  
Sputtering, Don floundered for a response, but stopped when Ian's maddening smirk finally filtered into his consciousness. "I know what your game is, Edgerton, and you're not gonna get under my skin so easy. I'm not intimidated by you, and I'm not scared, either."  
  
"You keep telling yourself that, Eppes."  
  
Don rubbed his lips, resisting the urge to just punch Ian in the face. "Tick-tock, Edgerton, midnight is approaching fast. See you soon." And with that, he walked away, heading for the shooting stall.  
  
Ian watched him go, the same smirk on his face. Don was really just too amusing; it was almost a shame that he was going to have to break him a little.  
  
It was hard to get Edgerton out of his mind, but he refused to let himself get distracted.  
  
Instead, he focused on the target in front of him, sighting, breathing, and firing in the rhythm he was used to. He could almost feel the clock ticking, bringing the moment closer, the adrenaline starting to make his skin buzz.  
  
As midnight approached on the day beginning Ian's flight, Don mentally counted down, starting the clock on the stroke. The next 24 hours were consumed with research and pouring over Virginia maps. He stayed focused on the immediate DC area. Everything he'd learned about Ian said that he would look to throw Don a curve ball; what bigger curve could there be than to not actually go anywhere.  
  
Besides, D.C. was Ian's home ground. He knew it better than Don possibly could in the short time he'd been there.  
  
Midnight the next day arrived, Ian's 24-hours were up, and Don very quietly did nothing for several hours. His best bet, he figured, was to start hunting in the light of morning, when he could walk the streets and be relatively sure that he wasn't being followed. Once dawn broke, Don got in his truck and started driving, heading for the first area he thought Ian might go.  
  
He came up empty, but he hadn't expected it to be easy. When he was driving to his second destination, he thought for sure he was being followed. He was trained to spot a tail and he couldn't actually see anyone following him, but he felt it.  
  
He drove around all day, getting increasingly frustrated the more he came up empty and that niggling feeling that he was being followed just wouldn't let up. The clock was ticking and he was striking out.  
  
All his prep work and there wasn't even a trace of the guy. Everyone he talked to seemed amused he'd even ask about Edgerton, like they knew he was getting his ass kicked.  
  
And for all he knew, they did.  
  
The closer Don got to midnight, the more desperate he became. Maybe he'd guessed it wrong and Ian really was in one of the other cities in Virginia he'd found out he called. His best move was probably to head to one and start a fresh search there; it'd have the advantage of throwing Ian off his game, too, put him on unfamiliar territory. But Don was an Eppes, and that meant he was stubborn. He wasn't ready to give in. Not yet.  
  
The clock hit midnight again, and Don's adrenaline level peaked. Now he was the hunted. He had to find Ian before Ian found him, and fast.  
  
When he got back to his car from his last interview there was a note on his windshield.   
  
_3\. 2. 1. Tag. You're it._  
  
Don whirled, convinced that Ian was going to be right behind him, smirking that maddening smirk. But the street was empty.   
  
_Dammit. Ian was_ playing _with him!_ Every instinct in Don's body was saying one thing: _Run._  
  
Even though he'd been warned, he still couldn't quite believe that it was actually happening. He slipped in his truck and picked a direction. If he could just throw Ian off his trail, he might have a chance. Of course, if Ian was close enough to leave him a note he was already in serious trouble.  
  
He ended up on the outskirts of DC where the tourists didn't go and the only places available were the kind of ramshackle, rundown motels that he and Billy had gotten so used to. He just needed time to think and this was as good a place as any. As he got out, he took a look around the perimeter of the parking lot. It looked empty, but experience was teaching him that didn't necessarily mean that it was. Unobserved, he hoped, he slipped into the motel office and acquired a room.  
  
A few short minutes after he settled into his room, there was a knock on his door. "Room service," a familiar voice said.  
  
Don bristled and considered not opening the door. He was caught and there was no way around it. "Fuck," he muttered.   
  
"There is no room service at a place like this, Edgerton," he said, loud enough that Ian would hear him through the door. He opened it and stepped away.  
  
Ian pushed the door open wide and smirked at his captured prey. "Yes, well, I thought about using housekeeping, but I thought maybe that'd be too transparent."   
  
Stepping in to the room, Ian closed the door behind him and locked it.  
  
Don refused to flinch, although he was suddenly very aware he was in a locked room with another predator. "All right, you win."  
  
"Yes, I know," Ian purred, advancing a few steps. To Don's credit, he held his ground. "I do have to say, Eppes, you did better than most. Almost all of them have fallen for the false trail I laid. But you... you stuck around here. Why?"  
  
"I don't have to tell you anything," Don said. "But if you have to know, everything I learned about you said that you'd throw me something unexpected. Not going anywhere at all was the most unexpected thing I could think of."  
  
"Ah, someone who actually expects the unexpected. And what do you expect now, Agent Eppes?"  
  
Don glanced at the locked door. One of the things almost everyone neglected to comment on was what happened _after_ the game was over. So he had nothing to go on here except the relaxed line of Ian's body and a locked room with no escape.   
  
"I expect now that you'll gloat some more and then leave me to lick my wounds," Don said eventually.  
  
"Is that what you want?"  
  
Eyes narrowing, Don glared at Ian. "I gathered the impression that you weren't someone who cared particularly about what other people want."  
  
"True." He took a step closer, invading Don's personal space. "But even I have my limits." He wasn't going to force Don into sex. He wasn't a rapist.  
  
Don licked his lips as Ian's scent washed over him. It was rich and spicy and most definitely masculine, and it sent a thrill running up his spine. It reminded him of the way Billy would smell after a hunt, like he could _smell_ the testosterone pouring off him. His cock gave an interested twitch.   
  
Taking a step back, Don put a hand up in front of him, as if to stall Ian's further advance. "What's going on here?"  
  
Ian stopped moving forward. "I'm claiming my prize. Nice of you to book a room. Unless I've read you wrong. Did I read you wrong, Eppes?"  
  
"If you think that because you won I'm just going to bend over for you, you've got another thing coming," Don said, even as his cock swelled and he could feel a damning blush on his cheeks.  
  
"Oh, I don't think that's the only reason," Ian said, looking pointedly at the bulge in Don's jeans. "I think you're going to do it because you _want_ to do it."  
  
Don gulped. Denying that he was interested would be pointless, but he couldn't just give it up, either, not to Ian Edgerton. Boldly, he stepped forward and grabbed the front of Ian's shirt, dragging him down into a rough, hard kiss.   
  
"Oh, I don't know," he murmured against Ian's lips. "I think there's a fair chance I can get you to bend over for me."  
  
Ian grinned. "I'd like to see you try."   
  
He kissed Don back just as roughly, one hand cradling the back of his neck, the other cupping his ass and squeezing.  
  
Not to be outdone or manhandled, Don cupped Ian's ass in both hands, dragging him toward the bed.  
  
Ian tugged on Don's shirt, slipping it over his head.  
  
Don couldn't control the groan that slipped out of his throat as Ian's fingers grazed his skin, but he didn't let Ian smirk for long. Half tackling Ian to the bed, Don nearly ripped Ian's tight black t-shirt off, placing biting kisses to his throat and collarbone.  
  
Ian permitted himself a small groan, then worked on opening the fly of Don's jeans.  
  
"Oh no, you don't," Don muttered, pulling out of Ian's reach. He dragged his fingers down Ian's well-defined chest to his jeans, pulling his belt open roughly and shoving his hand into his pants.  
  
"Fuck," Ian grunted. He grabbed Don by the shoulders and rolled, forcing Don's hands off his body. Yanking Don's arms up over his head, he pinned them to the mattress. "You really are quite stubborn, you know that?"  
  
Don started to struggle but Ian kept him pinned, with some effort.   
  
"Not going to win this one, either," Ian commented.  
  
Growling deep in his throat, Don tried to work a knee in between them, but Ian was faster. He ground down on Don's hips, rubbing their still mostly trapped erections together between their bodies.   
  
Pleasure shot up Don's spine, and he arched, groaning helplessly.  
  
Ian chuckled and placed sharp, biting kisses on Don's neck. "See? Told you you wanted this."  
  
"Do you ever _stop_ being an insufferable bastard?" Don growled through clenched teeth. He wanted to deny that this was doing anything for him, but fuck it felt good to be trapped under someone who could match his strength again. Struggling mostly for form now, Don slowly started to give in to the pleasure Ian was creating, until finally he was trading pleasure for pleasure instead of trying to gain the upper hand. It wasn't submitting; it was just ensuring that ultimately they both got what they wanted.  
  
Ian finally got Don's pants off and fished a packet of lube and a condom from his own jeans. He showed both to Don, in case he had any objection.  
  
Don's eyes went wide, but he nodded silently. "This doesn't mean that I like you, you know," he said, pushing up so he could roll over for Ian.  
  
"And I swear to God if you tell anyone else about this, I will make it my life's mission to make yours miserable," Don added as he settled his head on his arms.  
  
"I've heard that before. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." He grinned and gave Don's ass a little slap.  
  
Don tried to kick at Ian in retribution, but Ian pinned him securely with his body once more.  
  
"Ah ah ah... none of that," he murmured in Don's ear. He licked a stripe up Don's spine, tasting his skin. "Spread 'em, Agent Eppes."  
  
Pushing out with his knees, Ian spread Don's legs and used one slick finger to tease at his entrance. Ian was careful, though not particularly gentle, in prepping Don.  
  
Don groaned, wincing at the slightly rough treatment but not complaining, either. He fisted his hands in the sheets, pushing back against Ian's fingers. "Don't play with me, Edgerton," he growled.  
  
"I thought that's all we were doing," Ian replied, voice low and husky. But he got himself gloved up and pushed inside in one long motion.  
  
Don's half-amused chuckle turned into a long, low groan as Ian seated himself deep inside him. "Fuck," he groaned. "That feels--"   
  
But he bit his lip, silencing himself. He wouldn't give Ian the satisfaction of telling him he was enjoying this.  
  
"Feels like what, Don? I can wait."  
  
Dropping his head, Don groaned. He knew trying to push Ian to give him what he wanted was pointless. "Amazing," he whispered. "That feels amazing."  
  
"That wasn't so difficult, was it?" Ian asked, rewarding him with a few shallow thrusts.  
  
"Fuck you," Don gasped.   
  
Ian chuckled warmly in his ear. "I think you have that backwards, Eppes," he murmured.  
  
"Do you ever stop?"  
  
"Honestly? No," Ian replied. Bracing one hand against the mattress, he thrust into Don a little harder. But he managed to hold himself in check while he sped up the pace a little.  
  
"Oh fuck, fuck," Don moaned as he pushed back against Ian. "Would you just let go and fuck me already?"  
  
He wrapped his legs back around Ian's calves, rubbing against his legs as pleasure shivered along his spine.  
  
"Well since you asked so nicely..." Ian began thrusting in earnest.  
  
"Yes... yes, that's it," Don moaned, dropping his head to his arms as he rode through Ian's thrusts. "Oh, fuck... Ian..."  
  
He shifted, trying to slide a hand under him so he could wrap it around his cock, but a sharp slap to the back of his hand from Ian stalled him.  
  
"Dammit, what--"  
  
"Not until I say," Ian said firmly.  
  
Don growled in the back of his throat but returned his hands to his sides, gripping the mattress tightly as pleasure surged all around him.  
  
Ian grinned and bit down on Don's shoulder blade. God, he was good. He might even be worth keeping around as an occasional on the side thing.  
  
Moaning helplessly, Don arched back into Ian. His need peaking, he angled his head back and was rewarded with Ian's mouth. "Need to come... god... Ian," he moaned, stopping just short of actually begging.  
  
Ian worked a hand under Don and wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking firmly. "Now."  
  
Biting his lip, Don fought to hold his orgasm off, even for just a few seconds, but that was all he was capable of. Crying out, he came over Ian's fingers, panting as the aftershocks washed over him.  
  
Ian chuckled, then thrust twice more and came.  
  
Don waited until Ian's breathing had become slow and even again and then nudged at him hard. "Come on, get off me. I need to clean up."  
  
Ian withdrew and rolled over onto his back. He stretched and put his hands behind his head, crossing his legs at the ankles as he watched Don get up and cross to the bathroom. "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it, Eppes," he purred.  
  
Don stopped on his way to the bathroom and looked evenly at Ian. "My name's Don. You might want to try using it now and then." He closed the bathroom door behind him.  
  
Ian rolled his eyes and tried to figure out if he was going to have a problem.  
  
Don took his time in the bathroom, washing thoroughly but skipping a shower. He'd do that when he got back to his place. He looked in the mirror, frowning. The problem wasn't that he'd slept with a man, or even that he'd enjoyed it. The problem was that it was _this_ man and the sense that he was just a toy to be played with. Finally, he stepped out of the bathroom again, only hesitating a moment before settling next to Ian again. "So, what happens now?" he asked, playing with his hands.  
  
Ian shrugged. "We get cleaned up and I see you back at Quanitco where we train agents to fight for truth, freedom and the American way."  
  
"I see. Good. I'll pay up on the bet by Monday," Don said. "Looking forward to working with you."  
  
"Looking forward to working with you, too." Ian flashed a grin and sauntered into the bathroom.  
  
Don fiddled with his hands some more, turning the events of the weekend over. It hadn't been all bad. And he hadn't felt this well fucked in a long time. Maybe he was being too uptight. And maybe he did deserve just a little comeuppance for all his bragging. Ian emerged with a towel around his waist and he sat on the edge of the bed to start pulling on his clothes.   
  
"You were right about one thing," Don said.  
  
"Oh? What's that?" Ian said, turning his head.  
  
"I did enjoy it."  
  
"You know what? Me, too." Just for the hell of it he gave Don a long, dirty kiss. "See you around. Don."  
  
Don ran his hands into Ian's hair and held him close, returning the kiss in kind. "Catch you next time, Ian."  
  
"We'll see about that." Tucking his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt, Ian eased out the door and into the night.  
  
....  
  
Monday morning, Ian arrived at his desk at promptly 0730, well before he was due to grill his first group of cadets. On his desk was a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue wrapped with a red ribbon. Smirking, Ian untied it, loosening a card that fell to the desk. Printed in black ink were these words: "Care for a rematch? -- Don"  
  
He looked up to see Don crossing the office, smirking at him over a cup of coffee.  
  
"Oh, you are so on, Eppes," Ian said turning his head as Don passed.  
  
"Looking forward to it." Don raised his cup in salute and was gone.


End file.
